


hold me tight

by Carcharias



Category: EXO (Band), VIXX
Genre: Drabble, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 23:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6097273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carcharias/pseuds/Carcharias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyungsoo’s not used to having to ask for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hold me tight

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a warm-up/distraction while writing the demon au kensoo for vixxomoments. Taken from this prompt courtesy of fairyminseok: "I was sick and you refused to cuddle me for a week but now I'm okay so I require all the cuddles"
> 
> more fluffy kensoo, one day i'll write them actual makeouts, one day. #whenwillidothisshipjustice

Kyungsoo stares at the TV from his blanket cocoon on the couch, watching as tiny black and white figures march jerkily into battle to the soundtrack of a Ken Burns monotone. He’d change the channel but the remote is by the TV and Kyungsoo’s muscles are still weak from his fever chills. Besides, he’s almost half interested in this documentary on the Korean War. Cultural history, and all that, or something.

He’s not alone in the apartment; his boyfriend is around but shut up in his bedroom-turned-office, practicing. Kyungsoo can hear him running through scales occasionally. 

He hadn’t minded so much in the first couple days of the flu, when most of his energy was focused on Not Dying, trying to keep down Gatorade and saltines and hoarding every blanket in the tiny apartment. But now he’s in Day Three and he’s starting to feel antsy. 

Mostly though, he just feels cold, tired, sick and bored. The documentary fades out and the intro to Finding Bigfoot plays. “Nooooo,” Kyungsoo moans, but there is no escape. 

\-----------------

“I’m home!” Kyungsoo jolts awake, blearily poking his head up above the back of the couch before a wave of dizziness forces him to flop it back down, groaning.

A crinkling noise, and there’s a warm, heavy weight on the side of his face that sloshes and smells heavily of chicken stock. “I brought you soup.”

Kyungsoo swats at the bag on his face, grumbling as he opens his eyes to Jaehwan giggling over him, takeout bag in hand. “I also got you another box of crackers. You sleep okay?” Jaehwan’s expression is soft as he gently fluffs at Kyungsoo’s hair.

“Mm,” Kyungsoo replies. “But I never want to see another saltine again.” Tentatively, he grabs at Jaehwan’s sleeve, tugs a little, but Jaehwan dances away, bag swinging. 

“Nooope! Not until you’re better!” he sing-songs, disappearing into the tiny kitchen.

Kyungsoo burrows into the couch and tries not to sulk.

\-----------------

Kyungsoo gets it, really, he does. Jaehwan’s been working towards this production for a months now, ecstatic to get the part he did, and Kyungsoo is so proud. He’d feel terrible if he infected Jaehwan before opening weekend, so of course he’d agreed to his vaguely manic conditions. 

But, well...the extra futon has a weird lump in it. And even their superhero of a space heater and a million blankets don’t really compare to sleeping with a clingy human furnace.

Kyungsoo’s not used to having to ask, not with Jaehwan, let alone be denied.

Kyungsoo rolls over the lump, and slowly falls asleep. It’s been almost a week, and this is getting ridiculous.

\-----------------

Opening night is a massive success, the production going off with only a few small visible hiccups, and all the larger disasters mercifully averted behind the curtain. Kyungsoo attends, of course, despite stifling a weird lingering cough the whole time. But Jaehwan is fantastic on stage, cuts a tall, dashing figure in every costume and voice ringing out to fill the theater. Kyungsoo stands with the rest of them at the bows, clapping and grinning as hard as he can.

He goes to meet Jaehwan at the stage door, still smiling and holding a bouquet. Soon enough, Jaehwan emerges, looking tired but exhilarated, remnants of makeup still clinging to his eyes and skin. He spots Kyungsoo and his face splits into his crooked smile as he rushes over.

And this, this would be the moment when most couples hug or give a congratulatory kiss, or something. Anything. But when Kyungsoo reaches out, leans up—even though they’re in public, even though Kyungsoo doesn’t—Jaehwan jerks back, doesn’t fold over and eagerly eat up the distance like he normally would. 

“Still have three more performances this weekend,” he says, still grinning crookedly. He laughs a little, his too-loud jokey laugh, and it annoys Kyungsoo more than usual. He chokes it down with his cough.

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says, forcing the corners of his mouth upwards and his face to relax. “Yeah, fine, of course.” Jaehwan smiles, softer, and buries his face in the bouquet.

\-----------------

As much as he wants to, Kyungsoo can’t make it to the rest of the weekend performances. Now that he’s mostly recovered, he’s playing catchup with work projects and thesis research. He spends most of the weekend alone at the library, occasionally texting Jaehwan and screenshotting his overly cute “wish me luck” selfies. He goes home late, orders takeout, leaves it in the microwave for Jaehwan to reheat.

He’s not avoiding anyone.

\-----------------

Kyungsoo hears the door unlock as Jaehwan stumbles into the apartment. It’s late; he’d gone out for drinks with the cast, and Kyungsoo listens carefully from the futon, trying to determine how drunk he is. There’s the sound of uneven stumbling into the hallway, but no accompanying crash of knees hitting the side table or loud swearing. Not very drunk, then. 

The door to their bedroom squeaks open, then shut, followed by the brief sound of pipes rattling from running water, then silence. The space heater rattles, the lump in the futon jabs at his back, and Kyungsoo is done with this. 

Jaehwan is already mostly undressed, sprawled facedown across the middle of the bed, snoring into his pillow.

“Shove over,” Kyungsoo hisses, pulling at the covers and nudging at Jaehwan’s bulk. He makes a sleepy, startled noise of protest but Kyungsoo ignores him, crawling underneath the covers to lie down with his back to Jaehwan.

“Kyungsoo, wha—”

“It has been a _week_ , Jaehwan,” he interrupts. “A week, and I am going to sleep in my own bed tonight.” He scooches backwards into Jaehwan’s front, grabbing at Jaehwan’s arm to throw it over his own waist. “Goodnight,” he says, settling.

Jaehwan makes a cooing noise. “Oh, were you lonely? Missed cuddling with me?”

“Go to sleep,” Kyungsoo huffs, but he can feel Jaehwan shift up, gently pull at Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Part of Kyungsoo wants to be stubborn, wants to curl tighter in revenge but he lets himself go, turn towards Jaehwan braced on one arm above him.

“Hey,” Jaehwan says quietly, and even in the dark of the room, Kyungsoo can see him smiling, dark eyes glittering from the streetlight outside.

“What.” It comes out sharper than Kyungsoo maybe intended and he winces when Jaehwan’s smile slips. 

“Hey,” Jaehwan says again, brows furrowed, and reaches up to play with Kyungsoo’s hair, waiting for Kyungsoo, because even a little drunk and sleepy he’s still patient in the dark, in the moments when it’s just the two of them. And Kyungsoo used to hate this, still isn’t used to how easily Jaehwan gets under his skin, burrows into Kyungsoo’s chest and by the time Kyungsoo realizes he’s there it’s too late. This week was supposed to be easy, Kyungsoo had told himself.

“It’s been a week,” he mutters, quiet, too sleepy, too honest already.

“It has.” Jaehwan smiles again, and leans down. Then he stops, inches away, still grinning.

“I swear to god—” Kyungsoo hisses, reaches up to pull Jaehwan’s grin the rest of the way down. Jaehwan’s weight settles along Kyungsoo’s body like a blanket, his arms shifting to wrap around Kyungsoo’s waist and slide a hand further into his hair. Kyungsoo wraps his own arms around Jaehwan’s middle, fingers digging in as he kisses along that pouty lower lip.

Jaehwan licks into Kyungsoo’s mouth, tasting of alcohol, and Kyungsoo sighs, too loud. Jaehwan chuckles, and Kyungsoo turns them over, manhandles Jaehwan on his back, pins him down with his own broad shoulders, tangles their legs together to keep him from moving. “What?” he says, but this time there’s no bite.

“You’re cute, I missed you too,” Jaehwan says, eyes crinkling in delight, arms shifting tighter around Kyungsoo’s neck, long legs squeezing them tighter together. 

“Shut up.”

And Jaehwan’s still laughing when Kyungsoo settles heavily, biting at Jaehwan’s lip. But then, Jaehwan is warm and soft but solid and wrapped around Kyungsoo in more ways than one and he doesn’t mind, really.


End file.
